LATE SUMMER • AUTUMN • LET'S COZY
UPCOMING ARTICLES
apartment in fall Summer is quickly coming to an end! This autumn I will be writing several stories including Autumn Reflections and in December, Grey Holiday in Bath. I start baking gingerbread on late August Saturday nights; photos of my baking including that for an upcoming autumn family get-together will be chronicled in Cozy Photos from Home. My husband and I will be having picnics at the nearby geodesic home near the Museum of Life and Science when cooler weather returns, and upcoming trips to Edison Johnson and local cemeteries will be scrapbooked here on my blog. Upcoming Sad Premonition installments will feature Elena Hoyos, Dorothy Arnold, Huguette Clark, Connie Converse, Karen Carpenter, Phyllis Hyman, Fréhel, and Tammi Terrell.

August 12, 2026

Les Goëlands

When I was young there was an old Damia song which was recorded in 1929 called "Les Goëlands" (it was actually written by Lucien Boyer in 1909 and first sung by Damia in 1911). It tells the story of seagulls who gather the souls of dead sailors. It actually sparked my lifelong fascination with seagulls...but tinged with a slight horror.

Why do I mention this a century later? Because there have been reports that multiple Navy sailors on board the USS Abraham Lincoln whose tours have been extended since the air craft carrier has been deployed for more than eight months have attempted to jump overboard. Their deployment (which was in support of the US military operations against Iran in the middle east) was supposed to end in May. As it is, they have no publicly-announced return date set. I cannot begin to tell you the dread with which this article fills me. My uncle and cousin were both in the Navy. I cannot imagine the amount of psychological stress these brave souls are going through. Politics aside, this is a dreadful situation. I truly hope that our brave men and women get the psychological help they so desperately need in such a horrible situation, and that they return home to us soon.

L′âme et l'oiseau ne font plus qu′un
Ils cherchent le corps du défunt
Loin du rivage
Et c'est pourquoi sous le ciel noir
L'oiseau jette avec désespoir
Son cri sauvage